


The Toddler

by WellDoneBeca



Series: Clint Barton Bingo 2019-2020 [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Age Regression/De-Aging, Best Friends, Confused Natasha Romanoff, Confused Steve Rogers, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Funny, Gen, Minor Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Platonic Relationships, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-01-26 17:43:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21378025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WellDoneBeca/pseuds/WellDoneBeca
Summary: You can find many things in the compound; your home with the Avengers wasn’t short of scientific wonders and magical surprises, but one thing that you would never – ever – expect to see there was a baby. Especially alone. Especially lost. Especially looking like the carbon copy of your best friend.Squares Filled:Chapter 1: Hair Pulling (Clint Barton Bingo)Chapter 3: Protectiveness (Bucky Barnes Bingo)Chapter 4: De-Aging (Clint Barton Bingo)Chapter 5: How did that happen? (Clint Barton Bingo)Chapter 6: It wasn’t my fault! (Clint Barton Bingo)
Series: Clint Barton Bingo 2019-2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1541164
Comments: 27
Kudos: 35
Collections: Avengers Assemble!





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/welldonebeca)
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> Find me on [Tumblr](https://welldonebeca.tumblr.com/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/welldonebeca)
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://welldonebeca.tumblr.com/)

If there was something rare in the Compound, that thing was silence. A calm silence and  _ The Avengers _ were two things that did not mix, so when a full week with literally nothing to do hit you, you were prepared for something crazy or weird to happen.

When you heard a faint cry by the door of the common room, you knew the calm before the storm was gone.

“FRIDAY?” you stood from the couch. “Why do I hear a baby?”

The system didn’t take more than a second to answer you.

“It’s actually a toddler, Agent.”

You rolled your eyes. You could get that. Tony loved sassy women, and Friday would be the embodiment of sassy had she had a body.

“Why do I hear a  _ toddler _ ?” you put emphasis on the last word.

“There seems to be one at the door, agent.”

You frowned, completely confused, and when you opened the door to the outside hall, a toddler was bawling their eyes out, dressed only in a disposable diaper.

What in hell was a toddler doing at the compound?

You picked them up, quickly realising how cold it was outside, and how their skin was freezing, as the halls weren’t as heated as the communal spaces.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you cooed, trying to calm them down. “Friday, I need help.”

Before you were done speaking, Bucky had walked into the room and stopped frozen on his place just a few steps from you.

“Is that a baby?” he exclaimed.

“According to Friday, it’s a toddler, and it is freezing.”

He ran to you, taking off his jacket and wrapping it around them, making sure the kid was covered from neck to legs.

“It?”

“Excuse me, checking their diaper wasn’t my priority.”

Bucky didn’t answer, and you moved a hand to caress their soft blonde hair gently, hoping it would do something for the crying and sobbing.

“Come on,” you bounced them a bit. “It’s alright, you’re safe. We got you.”

The toddler couldn’t be over 15 or 16 months old, you weren’t sure they could speak.

Tony arrived in a rush all suited up and stopped in front of you completely confused.

“What the fuck?”

You both turned to him, and he was standing with wide eyes staring at you.

“That’s a baby.”

“Yes,” you confirmed. “Do you have any other obvious things to say?”

He swallowed hard.

“Is it mine?” he asked with very wide eyes.

You frowned and looked down at the kid. They looked very familiar but didn’t look like Tony at all.

“I don’t think so?” you said slowly and ended up coming out as a question. “I mean… It’s a toddler. You’ve been with Pepper for years now.”

His face slowly moved from scared to understanding, and he relaxed.

“I forgot that,” he put his hand over his heart. “Oh boy… That was scary.”

You rolled your eyes, noticing how the kid has stropped crying and was hiding their face on your neck, reaching for your hair.

“’arry,” the toddler babbled, making you look down, right at them.

“So you can talk, little one?” you offered them a smile, feeling calmer now that their cries weren’t ringing in your ears but knowing you’d be suffering through a long session of them pulling and playing and drooling all over your hair.

“Can someone explain why there’s a baby here?” you heard, turning around and finding a curious Natasha with an even more curious Steve by her side.

Bucky and Tony looked right at your direction, though it wasn’t exactly a useful decision. By that time, almost the whole team was standing in the room.

“I found them at the door,” you affirmed, pointing with your hand. “Almost naked and freezing.”

“It’s not mine,” you affirmed, eyeing each person. “Anyone who might be a probable parent ‘round here?”

Sam was ready to start speaking, but you interrupted him before he could defend himself. The baby was a tad too white and blonde to be his, and you all knew it.

“Not you, Sam,” you affirmed, turning around to look at him. “You and Rhodey are out of the question.”

Your friend smiled, sitting back on the couch, and you took a deep breath.

“Well, I can’t have kids,” Nat reminded all of you, and you could see the hidden pain in the back of her eyes even from afar. “Steve and Bucky have been together for longer than it would take to produce a kid this old, Tony and Pepper too.”

You all nodded, and you looked back at the kid when they tugged on your hair once again, making you wince, completely entertained by it. Goodness, what was it that made kids want to pull your hair so much?

It was just then that you looked into their eyes, smiling for a split second before realising how  _ familiar _ his eyes were. Blue with green strikes near the pupil, very playful and bright. There was no way you could mistake those eyes  _ anywhere. _

“Guys,” you held the child a bit more firmly, analysing the rest of their features.

The freckled on top of the nose, the colour of the hair, the look of his chin… The toddler was a carbon copy of the archer you called your best friend.

“I think the baby is Clint’s.”

The small talk that had risen died suddenly and before you could even fully react, Natasha was crossing the room to see the kid closely with her own eyes.

“Holy shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/welldonebeca)
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> Find me on [Tumblr](https://welldonebeca.tumblr.com/)


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/welldonebeca)
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://welldonebeca.tumblr.com/)

“So?” you raised your eyes to Nat the moment she entered your bedroom.

“No one was seeing entering or leaving in the footage, but it seems to have been tampered with,” she said, leaning onto the door. “And no one has been able to locate Clint.”

You took a deep breath. You’d just changed baby Barton’s diaper and verified that  _ it _ was actually a boy.

“He’s going to freak out,” you closed the Hawkeye jumper that was part of the merchandise Friday had sent into the compound just a couple of minutes after you’d found the boy. “Did someone try to call him?”

“Everyone,” she answered, and smiled when the toddler reached his arms to her. “Oh,  _ myshka _ , come here.”

The moment she picked him up, Barton moved his hands to her face, playing with her cheeks.

“Asha,” he babble. “Asha.”

“Aunt Tasha,” you suggested.

Your friend just smiled, though the baby didn’t even look at you, repeating her name over and over again.

“I think I know some places we might find him,” Nat affirmed. “But we can’t take Francis.”

Your raised your eyebrows.

“Francis?”

“It’s Clint’s middle name,” she put the boy’s hair behind his ear. “Anyway. We’re going to need someone to look for him. I thought about Pepper, but she lives too far away.”

You thought a bit about the detail.

“What about Steve and Bucky?”

She hesitated for a moment before saying anything.

“Friday, are they home?”

“Yes, agent.”

Five minutes later, you were up their floor, carrying baby accessories, food, and – of course – Francis.

“Are you sure we’re the best option?” Bucky asked. “100% sure?”

“Tony and Pepper live too far, Rhodey doesn’t live here, Wanda is out, Bruce would Hulk out within three minutes of caring for a baby, and we don’t think Sam a good option to this task.”

He swallowed down, apparently agreeing with you, but Steve was still frowning.

“We don’t know how to care for a baby,” he pointed out. “How do we feed him?”

You raised the bag you’d brought along with you.

“We brought his meal.”

“How do we change his diaper?”

Nat just walked to him, handing him a struggling Francis.

“It’s on YouTube,” she explained. “We have everything you need in the baby bag, you didn’t have to buy anything. Just keep him alive until we get Clint back.”

He nodded weakly.

“And remember, he has to eat in one hour,” you added. “Also, don’t forget to offer him water every fifteen minutes, okay?”

This time, it was Bucky who was surprised.

“We have to feed him ourselves?”

Nat waved her hand.

“Friday will help you,” she put down the toys Pepper had offered you from Morgan practically an hour after finding out about the baby.

“What do we do with him while we wait?” he asked.

You shrugged, already impatient. You had to find Clint, and this was just wasting your time.

“Play with him, sing baby shark or something,” you rolled your eyes. “He’s a baby.”

“Bye Francis,” Nat waved.

You left before they could ask more questions, and the kid was not happy at all. The moment you closed the door, he just started crying.

He cried and cried, and Steve bounced him gently in his arms to no results.

“What do I do?” he turned to his husband.

“I don’t know!” Bucky practically barked. “I don’t even know what Baby Shark is.”

“Friday,” Steve called.

The TV was turned on, making them both jump, and a YouTube video started playing with a boy in what looked like an underwater surrounding in green screen.

“Look, Francis,” Bucky called. “Look at the TV.”

That seemed to be useful, as the boy was quick to move his attention onto the large TV. Defeated, Steve sat down and put his on his lap, using one hand to keep the baby safe and moving the other to move his own hair back nervously, eyeing the boy and sighing.

“Let’s just hope they find Clint. And fast.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/welldonebeca)
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://welldonebeca.tumblr.com/)


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Square Filled: Protectiveness ( @buckybarnesbingo )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/welldonebeca)
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://welldonebeca.tumblr.com/)

Bucky had to admit, those kids’ shows weren’t as bad as he thought. Sesame Street was actually quite nice to watch if he could just ignore their teaching speech made mode that sounded a bit too patronising if taken out of context.

“Do you think we might find something bigger in the bag?” Steve asked, moving his attention from the screen to himself. “His legs are too long for that onesie, I think Y/N and Nat didn’t know that.”

Bucky just shrugged. A little more leg, a little less leg, what was the problem?

“Look at Big Bird, Francis,” he pointed when the boy started to squirm. “Look at how big his nest is.”

Steve shook his head. He could clearly see that his partner had somehow bonded with the kid already. If he was really Clint’s son and lived in the compound – which seemed to be the clear intention of whoever had dropped him there, a  _ bad _ idea, he would probably fall into the role of an uncle in a split second.

He fished through the baby bag until he found clothes that seemed to fit better, and offered Francis a small smile as soon as the commercial break was on, offering him a toy.

“Can you help me a bit, Francis?” he questioned when he put the boy down on his bed.

What was he doing, that baby couldn’t —

“Okay,” Francis whispered.

Steve’s eyes widened.

“I didn’t know you could talk,” he pulled one of Francis’ legs free. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

Francis moved his legs frantically.

He was a bit too big to be called a ‘baby’, wasn’t him? He was an older toddler.

Steve frowned. That was weird.

“Do you know how old you are, Francis?”

The kid only shook his head just as Steve laid him down after taking off his clothes, and the captain frowned when his eyes caught something.

“What the hell…” he muttered. “Bucky. Bucky, come here.”

Francis sat us, squirming in a diaper clearly smaller than his frame, and extended his little hand to Bucky’s direction, open and closing them, signing for him to pick him up.

“What?” the brunette questioned him.

Steve put his finger gently over a mark on the baby’s skin, and Bucky squinted his eyes.

“That’s a scar,” he declared. It wasn’t a question. Both men could see a white scar over the boy’s arm, and it wasn’t the only one. His arm was actually littered with small scars that went up and down his skin, smaller or bigger, but always there.

“ _ What the fuck? _ ”

Anger rushed over both of them. Francis couldn’t be even four years old. Who could have hurt an innocent child?!

Bucky stepped away from both, and Steve jumped when he heard the sound of something breaking, turning his head to see that his partner’s both hands had broken two holes through the wall, and he was elbow deep into the mess.

“Francis,” the blonde man tried to say calmly. “Did anyone hurt you?”

The kid nodded.

Steve took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. It would be no use to get angry right now.

“Do you know who did it?”

“Bad men,” Francis replied.

He had to breathe in once again and ran his eyes through the boy’s body to try to see if anything else was there. There was a bigger scar on his back and a mark on his leg.

“Do you know their names?”

Francis shook his head and made a sad face, to which Steve quickly built a fake happy face. Goodness knows he didn’t want to scare that kid.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he rubbed his back. “You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise.”

He dressed him quickly in a pair of pants and shirt Iron Man-themed, a bit bigger than him, and picking the boy up and raising him in his arms.

“What are we gonna do?” Bucky asked, seemingly calmer.

“Well, first of all, we’re not letting him go back to wherever he came from,” he said like it was obvious. “Y/N and Nat are going to find Clint and we’re gonna find out who Francis’ mother is. Then we get whoever did this locked up for child abuse.”

Francis lied his head on Steve’s shoulder, making the man sigh.

“I think it’s time to eat,” Bucky changed the subject, looking  _ a bit _ calmer. “Are you hungry Francis?”

“Yes!” the boy squirmed in Steve’s arms. “I’m ‘ungry. I want food.”

That made Steve smile.

“Let’s eat, then,” he decided. “What do you like to eat?”

“Pizza!”

Bucky grimaced.

“Oh, yeah. That’s Clint’s kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/welldonebeca)
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://welldonebeca.tumblr.com/)


	4. 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Square Filled: De-Aging (Clint Barton Bingo)
> 
> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/welldonebeca)
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://welldonebeca.tumblr.com/)

You looked everywhere: from his favourite places to his hiding spots, and even the sites you pretended you didn't know existed. Nothing.

“I’m starting to get worried,” you rubbed your hands up down your pants. “Do you think someone might have taken him?”

Natasha gave you a worried look for a brief moment, then shook her head, clearly unable to take that possibility.

“We would have known. I’m sure we would know.”

You opened the door to Steve and Bucky’s apartment with an annoyed grimace. Clint was gone, his son was in your hands and you had never actually cared for a toddler before, so you had no idea of what to do. You’d need to find a place Francis could sleep, needed to find his mother, check up his health… There were so many things you and Nat needed to do to accommodate the kiddo among that mess.

“We’re here,” you called out, but stopped when your eyes caught Thor sat in the middle of the living room with a four-year-old, talking as if they were an adult.

“And… Friends!” he gave a large smile when aware of your presence, turning to the boy with a quick ‘excuse me’ and standing up to walk to you. “We were waiting for you.”

Thor hugged you tightly and you looked at Nat with a frown, but squeezed him back before the Norse god did the same to your best friend.

“I was just talking to James, Steve, and Clint about how things will be back to normal before Sunday,” he declared. “There is no need to worry.”

You just gave him a genuinely confused look.

“Okay?” you managed to let out.

Then it hit you. Clint. They’d found Clint?

“Good then. Where is Clint?”

Disorienting you even more, Thor pointed behind his back, and you just raised his eyebrows at him when you found nothing and no one, just Francis.

“You know, the spell is a bit inconvenient,” he continued. “But you humans have incredibly short lives, it won’t be long before this is just a memory.”

You blinked once, then twice. You couldn’t understand. What the hell was he talking about?

“Spell?” you repeated.

Giving up on taking the information from him, you turned to Steve and Bucky, who were staring at the boy sat on the floor.

“Where’s Francis?” you asked.

Bucky looked up at you, seemingly speechless, and pointed at the kid.

“There.”

You furrowed your brows, looking between them and then to the kid. He did look like Francis – and looked a lot more like Clint than the baby before – but you were still puzzled. Francis couldn’t be over 14 months old. This kid was already kindergarten age.

“Francis is growing,” Steve finally affirmed. “And Francis is Clint.”

You stared at your captain, opening and closing your mouth three times, then pointing at the kid and looking back at Thor.

“Excuse me, what?”

The only one who didn’t seem confused was him, who was just acting like everything was clear and understandable.

“He was bothering Loki,” he explained. “Apparently throwing jokes, nothing bad, but my brother put a spell on him. Don’t worry, I talked to him and the spell won’t take long to wear off. He will grow as a normal child and reach his current age before Sunday. We just need to keep him alive.”

Again, you just continued to blink.

What the actual fuck?!

“Alright.”

Thor opened a smile.

“You know, when we were kids he did that all the time, but with himself. You know how I like snakes?” he looked around. “I really like snakes. So once when we were children he turned himself into a snake and waited for me to pick it up, then he transformed himself back and stabbed me.”

You closed your mouth, suddenly aware of how your jaw had just fallen open, and looked for words to answer, being thankfully interrupted.

“Does he have any memories of his life?” Natasha questioned, changing the subject back to Clint.”

“Some, yes, but not all of them,” he shrugged. “He’ll remember everything from this week, though.”

You raised your eyebrows.

“Everything?”

“Everything,” he confirmed.

“So he will remember that we changed his diapers,” Nat noted. “Cleaned his ass, spoon-fed him…”

He confirmed and you chuckled.

“That will be really funny when he’s fully back,” you affirmed. “So, what do we do?”

Thor shrugged.

“Keep him alive?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/welldonebeca)
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://welldonebeca.tumblr.com/)


	5. 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Square Filled: How did that happen? (@clintbartonbingo)
> 
> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/welldonebeca)
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://welldonebeca.tumblr.com/)

“Clint,” you called, opening the doors of your wardrobe to see if you could find the archer boy. “Clint, where are you?”

“Clinton Francis Barton, if you don’t show up right now, you’re gonna regret it, young man!” you growled.

Was Sunday too far?

Keeping Clint Barton alive was a job that took the whole team to be filled. A four-year-old kid with the muscle memory to climb into vents and hidden spots wasn’t just hard, but was about to be proven impossible.

You moved a hand to your face, rubbing it for a moment before a loud sound coming from your room made you jump and run out with your backup gun in hands.

When you arrived, rushing and scared, Clint was just sat on your bed, crying and holding himself.

“I’m sorry,” he sniffled. “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again, I’m sorry.”

You froze. You’d never heard him so scared, even earlier. You were just worried, he didn’t need to cry.

“No, buddy, it’s okay,” you tried to calm him down, putting the gun over a dresser and running to your bed. “It’s okay. It’s okay! Are you hurt? Let me see you?”

He flinched, and then it hit you. Clint had had an abusive father, he was the reason he’d become deaf when he was a child – he’d beaten him so bad that he’d lost his hearing from the damage.

“I’m so sorry I yelled,” you looked into his eyes. “I’m sorry, Clint, I was worried about you but I shouldn’t have yelled.”

He continued to sniff but climbed into your arms after hearing your words.

“Did you get hurt when you fell down?” you asked again.

Clint nodded against your neck and you sighed.

“See, baby? That’s why I was so worried,” you said gently. “I don’t want you to get hurt. Please don’t climb into the vents any more? Wanda can’t pick you up all the time.”

He only sniffed a bit more, and you caressed his back.

“Let me see it,” you requested in a low voice, and he showed you his scraped left elbow and right knee. “Oh, no. We’re going to wash this very well and put a cute band-aid on them, what do you think?”

Clint nodded, still sniffing, and hugged your neck, making you sigh. Sometimes, you forgot this kid was your friend, the same one that fought by your side in the fields, and saw him as a kid. Damn, sometimes you just acted like he was one of your nephews, and you were caring for him like such. Sometimes you were so into the mindset of taking care of Clint that you’d briefly forget he wasn’t your son.

You sat him down on the counter silently and checked his skin again, cleaning the small wounds and putting the Avengers’ band-aids over the ones who needed it.

“And a kiss,” you leant in, following through your words. “Now we’re just set.”

He gave you a smile and yawned right after, making you glance at the clock. It was time for him to have dinner and then go to bed. Tonight, Wanda was the one cooking dinner, so you just let Clint wrap his arms and legs around you before walking to her apartment, finding Nat and having him reaching for her almost automatically.

“Wow, boy,” she exclaimed. “You’re getting big and strong.”

Clint chuckled and she raised her eyes at you after seeing the band-aids.

“How did this happen?”

“He climbed into the vents,” you sighed. “But we’re fine now, aren’t we, Clint?”

He nodded and sat quietly onto the table when Nat sat him and tied a napkin around his neck to keep his clothes from getting dirty.

“Are you going to eat alone today?” she questioned, glancing back at him. “Or do you need my help?”

Wanda put a plate in front of him after blowing a soft gush of wind to cool the food down in order for Clint not to harm himself.

“I can do it,” he reached for the plastic spoon in front of him. “Thank you.”

You smiled.

“Okay.”

You sat with your friends and just smiled up when Clint was done with his plate in just quick minutes, waiting for the three of you to leave the table, talking about what he’d done during the day. When Natasha took him to bathe himself and brush his teeth, you and Wanda were left to clean what was left on the table and your friend smiled at you.

“I have to be honest,” she muttered. “I’ll miss having a kid around when Clint is fully back.”

You sighed and rested yourself against the wall.

“I miss adult Clint, but I’ll miss kid Clint just as well,” you noted. “How long do we have, again?”

“Five days,” she dried her hand. “I’m mentally preparing myself for him to become a teen.”

You covered your face.

“I hadn’t thought about that,” you confessed.

Wanda laughed and served three glasses of wine for you.

“Well, good luck to us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/welldonebeca)
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://welldonebeca.tumblr.com/)


	6. 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Square Filled: It wasn’t my fault! (Clint Barton Bingo)
> 
> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/welldonebeca)
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://welldonebeca.tumblr.com/)

“How do you think it works?” you questioned aloud to no one specific. 

After some discussions, the team had decided it’d be better if all of you took turns watching Clint, and a very hesitant Tony had taken him out for the day to play with Morgan while he was still at a similar age to her. 

Clint was growing steadily. You could know it was happening before your eyes, but it was so gradual and subtle that if you spent too much time away from him, you’d be surprised by the difference in his body. 

“What?”

“His memory,” you crossed your arms. “Does he remember us as  _ us?  _ Does he know who he is? Does he remember his own life?”

“Yes and no,” Wanda walked in. “He has some memories but they only come as he ages. It’s like his body is travelling through its own time and history, learning everything again.”

Both you and Natasha turned to look at her, and your telepathic friend leaned onto the counter by your side. 

“He thinks of us as his family,” she smiled a bit. “Like those from TV, with a bunch of uncles and aunts and the overprotective mum.”

Your redhead friend turned to her instantly, rigid and worried. 

“Don’t worry, he likes that you’re overprotective,” Wanda assured her. “Clint loves the attention you give him. It’s everything he never had as a kid.” 

You chuckled and breathed in deep. There were things you never discussed as a team and as friends. There wasn’t a single one of you who didn’t have past trauma, be it from your childhood, adult life or everything in between, and talking of it wasn’t something you did. Seeing Clint as a kid and knowing he’d have to deal with it eventually, without an adult brain to process it, was every bit as weird as it made your heart hurt. 

All three of you stood straight when the elevator opened and the sounds of steps and cries echoed the halls. 

“Mr Stark and Mr Barton are back,” FRIDAY informed. 

“Let them know we’re in the kitchen.”

Not a full minute after, Tony was already entering the kitchen with Clint draped over his shoulder, crying heavily and loudly. By your side, Natasha fully shifted, standing tense and entering full protective mode. 

“What did you do?” she took your friend from the rich man’s arms. 

“It wasn’t my fault!” Tony defended himself. “We were in the car and he started screaming and crying and saying he couldn't hear! I didn’t know what to do.” 

You felt yourself tensing and tearing up. You remembered well what Clint had said had caused him to lose part of his hearing capacity. 

“I believe you,” Natasha sighed. 

“Look, I…” he continued, but then interrupted himself. “You do?”

“That’s about the age when he lost his hearing, it’s not your fault,” she assured him.

You all looked at one another. 

“What do we do?” you questioned. “Is there any way we can help him?”

Natasha patted Clint’s back, trying to comfort him. 

“We find his hearing aids,” she instructed. “And we continue to do what we’ve been doing. We watch him grow up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/welldonebeca)
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://welldonebeca.tumblr.com/)


	7. 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/welldonebeca)
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://welldonebeca.tumblr.com/)

“Do you really think this is the best idea?” you asked Natasha, looking around the kids’ play space.

Clint was growing and fast. Right now, he was bordering his pre-teen years and as antsy as any of those kids. The growing pains were a well, honestly. He had sniffed into your shoulder the whole night last night and the only way you found to get him to go to his bed and sleep was to medicate him. If you caught him during a growth sprout, you could see his skin shifting to accommodate his growing bones. It wasn’t a comfortable sight.

“It’s that, or he’ll try to rescue his bows again,” your friend pointed out. “And we can’t have.”

Still, you crossed your arms, watching as the employee practically wrapped Clint in every single  _ possible  _ protective gear out there before releasing him to the obstacle playground, which weirdly resembled one you’d faced earlier on SHIELD.

“He’ll nail it,” Nat affirmed, clearly proud. “It’s so easy.”

And yes, he did.

As if he was running to win a contest, Clint ran through the place with agility and a big smile on his face, passing the other kids, climbing the big walls and doing a  _ flipping  _ backflip to jump from a safely low platform, finishing it and running right to you, beaming in proud.

“Did you see?” he asked, stopping in front of the two of you. “Mama, did you see?”

Mama. That was something you had heard a lot recently, with him. It was an automatic thing from him, according to Wanda. He saw your whole team and a bunch of mums and dads – or an uncle for something reason, in Tony’s case – and, after seeing cartoons, films and children using the names to refer to their caretakers, he simply did the same, and no one wanted to be the one to correct him.

To that, Natasha smiled largely.

“I did,  _ ptichka _ . You were awesome!”

His blue eyes sparkled, and Clint looked up at you, filled with hope.

“Can I go again?”

“You can go as many times as you want, honey.”

He grinned and ran out, making you sigh. Seeing Clint like this… Well, he was making you remember all of those dreams you had buried deep in the back of your mind. A kid – your own kid – running around, pointing at things and asking you to be proud of them. A family, not the usual one, let’s be honest, but one to call yours.

You glanced at Natasha. Maybe…

No. It was stupid. A bad idea to even think about. You should just let it go.

* * *

“And I was so high!” Clint exclaimed, excited, making you exchange a look with Natasha.

Yes, that was not the first time you had heard the phrase, but the context was definitively different right now.

“I know, darling,” you moved a hand to his head, messing it up. “Did you have fun?”

“I had so much fun!” he practically jumped between you and Nat as you walked. “Can we go there tomorrow too?”

Once again, you exchanged a look with your friend. Tomorrow he wouldn’t be the same kid he was today. He’d probably be a teenager and wouldn’t want to be out with the two of you over his shoulder all the time, or in a place with several children.

“Not tomorrow, but we can come next week,” you suggested. “What do you think of that? Tomorrow, we could have a picnic with Steve and Bucky by the lake. What do you think?”

“Can we have pizza in the picnic?” he asked.

Natasha rolled her eyes.

“ _ Ptichka,  _ you can’t eat pizza for every meal. It’s not healthy.”

He deflated a bit, but you put a hand on his shoulder.

“We could go to an Italian restaurant now,” you affirmed. “And have something that is not pizza.”

Instantly, he turned to Nat, knowing exactly who ruled who in the dynamic between the two of you – and he wasn’t wrong.

She glanced at him and then at you, and sighed.

“Fine,” your friend gave in. “But we’re getting real food.”

But Clint wasn’t even affected by that, and just smiled largely.

“Yes, ma’am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/welldonebeca)
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://welldonebeca.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/welldonebeca)
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://welldonebeca.tumblr.com/)


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